Ordinarily, Renar would have gladly put himself forward if the order needed a diplomat. He'd had the training, he had the inclination to place himself in a role that would serve his interests, and, most of all, unlike some in the order who only cared to fight, he wouldn't bungle the job. That, however, only applied when dealing with sane, mundane matters. He knew himself well enough to know that dealing with fae inanity wasn't one of his strong suits. Fortunate that they had someone who was more than specialized in that field.

"Captain, with all due respect," Renar spoke up to Fanilly. "Perhaps it would be better to let Sir Fionn take the lead here. I daresay that knowledge of the fae would go farther than our diplomatic protocol would. And on that note,"

He turned to Fiadh next, affording her a brief nod as she kept hanging off Fionn's arm.

"Sir Arken speaks truly. Have you any ideas on who among the fae would be willing to help us enter the Moonlit Queen's realm, much less treat with her?"

@VitaVitaAR @The Otter

---

"You have a knight," Fionn repeated at Fiadh's claim about having to be 'a lot stronger.' "I am your strength." Whether 'decentralized strength' really counted remained to be seen, but given the manner in which his own prowess had grown through the union, he seemed somewhat firmly set on the idea. At least as regarded the belief that she may have started taking steps down that path whether she meant to or not.

As for diplomacy, and his name coming up in response—

"Eh? Who?" He instead was entirely distracted by Arken's comment on summoning in yet another fae being to get them in. "That's not sarcasm, is it? Do we know anyone that could help like that?" He finally turned back to the Niyar hanging off of him with the final question. "I mostly remember you trying to keep me out of trouble with the others back home."

Fleuri Jodeau

Frankly, this conversation was becoming increasingly disheartening to Fleuri. From what he could gather, they were dealing with a fae so powerful she can generate and shape her own plane, powerful enough to drive a Duke of Thaln mad within his seat of power, and all Thaln's finest problem-solvers can hope to do is use words to convince her to undo the madness she inflicted on the Duke.

When the orcs and foreigners invaded, the Roses met them in battle and defeated them. When the traitors rose up, the Roses met them in battle and defeated them. But this...have the Roses ever before faced a foe within our own borders that could not be defeated, only placated, he wondered.

"I'm a bit concerned at the position of weakness that we'll be negotiating from." he stated. "What happens if her final answer is "no"? What happens if she doubts the kingdom of Thaln's ability to inflict upon her any manner of tangible consequences for her actions, or if she doubts our ability to offer her anything that she could not simply take by force?"

Fleuri knew very little about fae and their powers and limitations. He hoped that he was wrong, that the power of this fae queen wasn't beyond what the kingdom was capable of facing and overcoming.

"Or am I wrong?" he directed his question at Arken, "If words fail, is it within the power of the College to overcome her magic?"

It was true, her training didn't exactly prepare her for negotiating with the fae, especially a powerful unseelie. They were so very unpredictable, and possessed abilities that were difficult to understand at the best of times.

Allowing Sir Fionn to do a lot of the work here was probably their best path to victory.

"You're right, Sir Fionn's experience here is probably one of our greatest tools," she responded with a nod. Lady Fiadh as proof, after all.

"Oh, I don't know for sure, but if you want to sneak in to talk you don't need someone important! Someone important would be nicest, they could do it all on their own, but if you get enough of the local fae, they could get us in! I help to do that sometimes, it's fun to set up surprises," the green figure said with an authoritative nod, "Or you could break in! But that would be hard. You need a special spell for it, otherwise you'd be aiming, and all you'd do is make a hole in the forest."

"I don't think I need to elaborate much, but she's right," Arken added, "A strong enough mage can penetrate a fae realm, but that kind of aggressive action might ruin our chance of regaining the Duke's wits."

He let out a heavy sigh.

"Fae are so very difficult to deal with. If it truly comes to it, the full might of the college might be required, but for now I'll place faith on negotiations."

The path forward was relatively clear, as far as Fanilly was concerned. Something that she was thankful for, when it came to dealing with such bizarre circumstances. They needed to seek the assistance of either many local fae, or a single powerful one, in order to enter the Moonlit Queen's fae realm and treat with her. Ideally, they would find some path to regaining the Duke's wits without any kind of fight.

But there was one more thing they needed first.

"Lady Fiadh, Lord Arken," Fanilly began, "Can you help us pinpoint the location of the fae realm?"

---

The answer was, of course, yes.

Fiadh was a niyar, so she was at relatively low-risk navigating a forest on her own, that much was true. And Lord Arken was the court mage.

But it still made little sense to simply abandon them to whatever could be roaming in the deeper Brennan Forest regardless.

The change in scenery from the friendly surroundings of the town to the darker, deeper portions of the forest was rather stark. Here the trees grew taller, and in the slowly-decreasingly light the shadows were growing longer and deeper. The branches above stretched overhead, forming a ceiling of leaf and wood that obscured all but the bare minimum view of Reon's light.

It was a somewhat unsettling atmosphere. Tales of headless riders who hunted travelers were a favorite amount the various stories told about the deeper parts of Brennan Forest. Strange disappearances, unfriendly spirits, and all manner of creatures were said to dwell within such places.

But as Knight-Captain, Fanilly could not, would not, allow old ghost stories to influence her heart.

They had a duty to the crown to fulfill.

It was by Lady Fiadh's guidance they'd come this far, with Lord Arken's assistance to verify her direction. With Sir Gerard's party scouting a different locale, this allowed them to cover a considerable area. Given that the Moonlit Queen was apparently a 'neighbor' or some sort it was somewhat hopeful that the fae realm they sought would not be even deeper and more distant in the forest.

She took a deep breath.

The atmosphere had only grown stranger since they entered. Something about this place was making a tingle run up and down the Knight-Captain's spine that couldn't be attributed to simple unease. The trees seemed to grow more twisted and gnarled, here. And---

Fanilly paused.

"Close formation. Form a barrier around Lady Fiadh and Lord Arken," she ordered, her right hand wrapping its fingers around the hilt of her sword.

It wasn't just a trick of the fading light. It wasn't just the atmosphere getting her.

It was typical to start seeing patterns where they were not when one was uneasy.

But the gnarled faces upon the nearby trees were more than that.

This sensation of being watched wasn't merely the symptoms of an anxious heart.

"And here I thought I was the only one who felt it, but it looks like you don't need my warning," commented Arken, raising his hand. As he spoke, his bag opened, and the black shape that emerged unfurled into a orichalcum-tipped rod of wood.

The air itself had already become heavier.

Something else was here.

---

Despite Dame Yael's misgigivings, the walk to Thomlin's rest was uneventful.

The white tree that had stood since Duke Thomlin's heroic death remained, tall and resilient, marking the location. It was otherwise somewhat sparse, but the aessyr(still devouring the pastry) pointed just beyond it, deeper into the forest.

It was here that shadows began to grow longer, but given the place was apparently frequented by the miniscule fae, it was unlikely it was normally so very dangerous.

However---

Past Thomlin's Rest, the forest's atmosphere seemed to shift. At first, as the knights passed back into the denser foliage, it was merely a heaviness. An additional weight upon their shoulders, as if the air itself had grown thicker.

But it wasn't just that, now. The denseness of the air was being accompanied by a deepening of the shadows. While the light was fading, yes, it was not yet dark.

Yet, the shadows now seemed almost pitch black, stretching light groping hands outwards. By this point, the uneasy aessyr who had been leading the way now drifted back, getting closer to Sir Gerard and growing increasingly silent.

The thick darkness only grew thicker. The weight of the air only grew heavier.

But now, there was a new sensation. A strange, gnawing feeling, an emptiness that permeated the forest.

It was as if the air itself was hungry.

"... H-here..."

The aessyr had now situated herself on Sir Gerard's shoulder, huddled as close as she could.

Fae homes were unusual. While fae realms could only be created by the most powerful of fairies, something similar could occur with the weaker forms as well.

Particularly, in the creation of their housing. A large and old tree, for example, could become a home for aessyr. Despite no construction taking place, a space could be created inside with an entrance visible only when desired, furnished with items of interest to the diminutive fairies.

That appeared to be the case here, if this tree represented the aessyr's home.

But one of its largest branches had been torn, ripping bark and wood free and casting it to the ground. Some of the bark appeared withered and dry, despite the fact the damage had to have occurred recently. A number of shining coins, a thimble, a ring, several shiny stones, and many other items lay scattered across the ground nearby. They were surrounded by patches of blackened, wilted plants and dead grass.

While no home was visible, it was clear this was where the aessyr had lived.

It was the site of the attack.

"... Whatever it was, it was strong," Sir Caulder mused, grimly, approaching the limb, "This is an old tree, but the branch was torn down so easily. And this atmosphere..."

The aessyr was hugging herself tightly, now.

"Th-that's... it's just like when it came, everything feels hungry..." she half-murmured, "And then it swallowed up Enfys, and... and---"

She cut herself off and froze when the leaves above rustled.

Something was moving above. As it moved, brown, dead leaves drifted to the ground.

It was descending.

The shape that emerged was far larger then even a huge horse, at least in overall length and height. But its black body was emaciated, excessively thin, ribcage visible through its stretched flesh. Its long, grasping limbs navigated down the tree, bark drying and dying with its touch as if the life was being drained away from it. The further it descended, the more it became clear just how long the creature was, with at least five pairs of lengthy, grasping limbs lining its body and more likely further up in the withering tree.

Its head was elongated and broad, its mouth unnaturally wide to an almost absurd degree, with small white eyes near the very tip of its upper jaw.

As it approached the knights, its maw gaped open. It was lined with thousands of tiny, needle-like teeth, but aside from that was its jaw stretched wider and wider all that could be seen was darkness.

That gnawing, desperate hunger in the dark atmosphere suddenly made sense.

A monster of gluttony was here, an unnatural and twisted creature that always hungered and could never be satisfied.

From its open maw, shadow, human-like hands began to emerge, perched on spindly black arms. They stretched towards the knights and the panicked aessyr.

The Gannek's drive to devour was unceasing.

"If we can't come to a deal with this Moonlit Queen, and the Duke wasn't so stupid as to sign his wits over… well, maybe the Goddesses might be willing to intercede," Tyaethe added. Of course, if the Duke had been so stupid… in that case, there would be nobody to blame but himself, and honestly maybe it was for the better if the heir inherited a little early. Duke or not, he wasn't worth that much of a fuss if it was entirely self-inflicted.

---

Tyaethe stepped back from where she had been engaging in a staring contest with the nearest tree—seeing faces where there weren't… that could be a sign of something magical. Or, it could just be because her eyesight was terrible and she was misinterpreting what she could see. It seemed, in this case, that it was the former. And wasn't that fun?

"Well, I guess we couldn't get to an unseelie fae realm without finding its watchdogs," she said brightly, sword in hand. This might be fun.

Rolan had been ruminating on the initial words of Dame Yael as they had entered the woods, on not splitting up, while considering the situation at hand. Without him, he suspected Dame Yael and Ser Caulder would not be of much use in tracking such a beast, and even after making good speed back to the Captain, waiting on all the others to arm, ready, and head out would be painstakingly slow. He initially wanted to spend time researching that, but the more he thought on the matter, the more leaving the trio to their fate felt less and less sound of an idea. Ser Gerard invoking Reon's guidance was almost ironic, given him questioning the entire effort of leaving to return and report to the Captain. Assuming she was even there, which was a sobering thought he had not considered. What if they struck out to investigate a rumor that came up after they departed? They would not be so foolish as to simply wait for them to return, not when the Duke's mind lay at stake, and returning to no one would be even more of a dire waste than waiting on them to arm themselves and depart. At best, he would be meeting up with the trio before they found trouble, at worst he would be chasing their trail alone. As the trio left, he stared at the trail back out of the woods before shaking his head and turning to tail the other three, muttering quietly under his breath.

"Reon's guidance... I'll explain myself later."

---

Rolan had taken to shadowing the trio rather than simply announcing himself straight away, old habits kicking in as hunter's instincts took over. If the Aessyr was to be believed they would sense the abomination far before it struck, and it would go for the more obvious pickings. By this point he had unslung his crossbow, readying a bolt out of earshot of the three before moving to track them once more, the clearing with the white tree in the middle an odd sight to him. Tall and proud, no doubt as tall and proud as the owner of the grave it marked was, at least that was the story told about heroic last stands and sacrifices. Always proud and eager to give all for the sake of the many, and thus another story to keep folks going was born. Nothing wrong with a good story, even if it was no doubt embellished, a more faithful man might consider a silent request for blessings against what lurked in the dark. Alas, Rolan was no such man of faith, and let his thoughts continue onwards as the Aessyr guided them all deeper into the wood beyond.

The air felt wrong, in a way that he was all too familiar with, though he couldn't put it quite to words yet. The fact it was ringing familiar in a part of his mind was disconcerting, incredibly so, but as the darkness grew and the shadows stretched, he found himself holding his cloak just that bit tighter about him. An old habit, ward off the unknown with the familiar, plus a good cloak could keep a lot away from what was beneath, but from the edge of the approach to where the Aessyr indicated he watched, listening intently, and it finally clicked why this was so familiar. The air itself hungered, a feeling he had grappled with in his youth when the hunts went poorly. Mother and son sparing an aging, unwell man the struggles of an empty stomach, and a pit of hate briefly gripped him before being pushed back down. He couldn't let the atmosphere get to him, he had to keep alert for the beast should it decide to strike. What it decided to do was reveal itself, something no natural predator would do without striking as well.

Had Rolan any hope left it was just a particularly ill omened, but still natural, creature it would have been dashed then and there. He hunted beasts and men alike, and had taken a grim satisfaction in hunting some truly unpleasant people down and collecting the bounty on their head before he had ever crossed paths with the Roses, and none of that would have ever readied him for the thing crawling down. Bigger than a horse, emaciated like a victim of dire famine, and its maw was ringed with more teeth than he considered existed in all the mouth's he had seen in his life. The human hands did not help his revulsion at the sight of the thing, but duty called all the same, and it was time to announce his presence to the other knights, that they did not stand alone. Even if he was alone to reinforce them, and no doubt Ser Gerard would recognize the all too familiar sound of Rolan's crossbow as it fired, the heavy thrum almost deafening in the hungry air.

"Open its foul guts, free the Aessyr, then we can give it all the steel and fire it can stomach and more." Rolan kept his usual tone and demeanor, pretended to at least, as instinct and training was taking over. He would die a happy man if he never had to put eyes on something like this again, but he suspected he would not have such a luxury going forward. Still, he had work to do, and that was something that he could understand and focus on. His shot was aimed for one of its pinprick eyes, let it dine on pain and blindness. If feeding on the living was not enough to sate it, he would gladly give it all the steel, flame, and alchemical compounds he carried with him, but that came after they did what they came here to do. Assuming the friend of the Aessyr survived the emaciated cage it currently was trapped within, but that was a problem for after they opened its guts to check.

@HereComesTheSnow@VitaVitaAR

Gerard Segremors

@Eisenhorn@VitaVitaAR

"Stay with me, little one. Bury yourself well in the coat. It's close." Gerard growled as their hike took them deeper and deeper into the unnatural gloom, an emptying pull in his gullet heralding tension down the back of his neck, hackles raising and senses sharpening. He licked his chops in spite of himself, as he finally donned his helmet anew and drew his sword as they entered the rest, head on swivel. He as well as any recognized the pangs of inexplicable hunger as they came— And while the white branches of the tree that marked a hero's grave yet caught light, he did too mutter a silent prayer to his patron goddess anew.

The sensation intensified as the blackness deepened and they continued on, until finally they arrived at the site of the attack, taking in the destruction caused by the monster in question with wary eyes. The tree that had once been the Aessyr's home was now a tattered ruin, old belongings strewn about the blackened ground, and of course, no monster in sight... Yet.

Hunger and smelling war at his doorstep. It was much like old times— and as such, his instincts were sharp pins and needles, forcing his visor upward to meet the eyes they all felt upon them.

Impossibly wide maw. Hunger filling the air. Long, spindly, emaciated, big— full of a gluttony that stood as eternal allegorical rival to the storied greed of dragons. It was a good thing he and the little fairy had finished the pastry on their journey— as a growing boy, he had always been told these damnable things would come, and eat the whole village if food was left to waste. He had put the pieces together now.

"Gannek," he growled, bringing his blade to bear as it began to descend, the first hand-tipped tendrils creeping out of the depths of its mouth. It was hard to hide the disgust in his voice— boyhood nightmares had become adulthood understandings of the world he lived in. Though an unfinished meal wasn't ever likely to draw one to your homestead, they were very real monsters all the same, and needed to be immediately dealt with as such. "Lovely. I get to start my day by doing the countryside a service."

Its approach was steady, but unceasing, heedless of the steel being brough to bear upon it. Though faced a group of three knights, he couldn't help but believe he was being singled out as its first meal. Why might that—

He felt a tug as the Aessyr buried herself as deep as she could into his shoulder... Right. Aessyr, like many seelie fae, were as pockets of raw vibrating life as much as they could be considered beings of flesh and blood— no more enticing a repast for a demon of gluttony and greed like this. He took a low stance, ready to spring.

He needed to occupy that mouth, and they needed to kill it. Nominally, the best way was to behead these things, but that first required—

The telltale thrum of a heavy bolt sailing downrange finished the thought for him, as Rolan's words put it to a clear and concise voice. Well, in the thick of it like this, Gerard could shelve his misgivings that the man had doubled back for now— ranged support like his was hard to come by on a good day, let alone one where each time you got close to your target you made a gamble.

"The man's right!" Gerard affirmed, still unused to hearing his voice ringing inside the steel of his helmet like a horn or bell. Even though it would doubtless regenerate, that first shot had bought them a moment where it needed to deal with a sudden impact to the head— one they could not afford to waste. That branch Sir Caulder had been examining earlier was still close by. "I'll force an opening, be ready!"

Taking it into his free hand, the gold-eyed knight grunted as he brought the long mass of torn wood to bear and surged forward— meeting the widemouthed beast in the middle of its approach behind the ragged tip of the heavy branch. A strange experience. A mere month ago, this would have at least demanded both hands of him—

Stomping into the earth and driving all the power in his kinetic chain through its length, he used the momentum of his charge to ram the branch into the maw of the beast, driving it up by the roof of the mouth. His plan was simple and intuitive— where the head went, the body needed to follow. This way, he could line up the things gut to be split open by the others. in his right hand, his sword remained at the ready to swipe through any errant hands of shadow reaching too close for comfort.

—when you had spent more than any sane man's lifetime's worth warding off strikes from Cyrus the Hammer in his prime, well.. the scales tended to weigh a little differently afterward.

As far as Gertrude was concerned, she'd done her part. She'd summoned the Niyar in and gathered some information, and was happy enough with this performance that she didn't see the need to put her own name forward in the coming matters of diplomacy. In fact, she was self-aware enough to know that her inability to say nice things and grovel as would probably be expected put her at a... disadvantage in such negotiations.

In short, she knew that she was rude and unsocialized and didn't really know how to fix it. Not, of course, that it needed to be fixed for the most part. As long as she was strong, people had to treat on her level and she didn't have to learn to talk pretty to them.

When dealing with Witches (and now Faerie nobility), however, her lack of decorum was like to get her into trouble. Annoyingly, people existed who were stronger than her. She would accompany the rest into the woods, but she made a mental note to hold her tongue in the presence of any Fae who was able to contort the world around her and the people inside it to her whims. Probably a good call.

As the woods grew darker and more twisted, Gertrude felt a chill run down her spine. They had crossed, at some point, from the area of the wood for youthful dalliances to the area where creatures from faerie stories might lurk. She didn't need to be told twice to put herself on guard, but when the captain had them form up, Gertrude also conspicuously took to the center with Fiadh and Arken. If she had meat-shields, of course she was going to use them.

Gertrude's uselessness in diplomacy annoyed her, but killing, at least, was something she could do. She readied her broom to blast the hell out of whatever wanted to try them.

"You sound almost like you're having fun, little mosquito," Gertrude quipped at Tyaethe, "you're a bit mad, aren't you?"

"Probably."

Fleuri Jodeau

It was somewhat of a relief to hear Arken suggest that it was possible, if negotiations didn't pan out, to muster the power to go against the Moonlit Queen, as was it to hear Tyaethe's suggestion that the goddesses could potentially get involved. This remained a very daunting task, but Fleuri would trust in the knowledge of a court mage and senior paladin.

---

As they advanced into the woods, Fleuri couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. It was normal to be apprehensive about this mission, of course, but...there was something more to it than that.

These parts of the Brennan Forest had a dark reputation. People going missing, rumors of fae and spirits, this was not a place that Fleuri would travel alone. Before this mission, Fleuri might have at least entertained the notion that the talk of fae and spirits could be superstition, and the disappearances being the handiwork of beasts, but looking at the gnarled trees, almost seeing faces upon them...if he wasn't a believer before, he definitely was now.

If there was a very slight silver lining to this, it was quite clear that Fiadh was leading them in the right direction. But if this was the way to the Moonlit Queen...just what sort of fae would they be dealing with, if this was what she surrounded herself with?

When Fanilly gave the order to form up, Fleuri was already so on edge that he drew his sword without missing a beat. He couldn't see anything specific, but if Arken's words were any indication, there was definitely something out there.

This place felt even more oppressive than the Cazt mausoleum. If Fleuri had known that it would be like this, he might have made a stop to borrow Armand's weapons again.

I wonder if he felt like this when he was setting out to face that undead knight...

---

"Play nice, you two," Fionn chided Gertrude and Tyaethe. "Don't embarrass us in front of the king's mage, because I don't want to have to lock you in a closet until you can decide to get along." The damage may or may not have already been long done on that particular front, not helped by his own joking back at them—not to mention that it was mainly Gertrude's inability to play nice—but such simple details wouldn't stop him from joining in.

With Fleuri, Arken, Tyaethe, and Fanilly already having their weapons out and ready, Fionn stopped just ahead of them, peering curiously at the trees around the group. "Nice enough little thicket trying to grow here, I suppose," he commented after a moment. "Too dense to let much light through, though, sun or moon. What's the one old Barukstaedian tale that kept on down here? Der Erlkönig? Maybe we've wandered into the wrong entrance hall!"

In contrast to Fanilly, Arken, Fleuri, and Gertrude, Fionn's bright and cheery disposition seemed far more in line with Tyaethe's mood at their surroundings. More than anything, he was wholly unconcerned with whatever they'd managed to find, despite the twisted, gnarled faces glaring out at them from the trunks that lined and bent over their path. "It would be just our look to go looking for a Moonlit Queen and to run right into the start of an Alder King's domain," he concluded with a nod. No clue if they were on a path towards the parts of the forest where alders might start to be the prominent trees, but that wasn't the important part of the story anyways.

Assuming that one of his old travelling partners before he'd become a knight was correct (and he had little reason to think otherwise, given the man was from Barukstaed), the old versions of the tale had nothing to do with alder forests. Elverkonge, or something like that, wasn't it?

Even without his blade at the ready, standing at the fore of the group as they peered into the ever-darkening depths of the forest, he held himself perfectly confident about their ability to deal with whatever they might face. "You've got the rear, aye, Renar? Let's try not to get snuck up on, that always looks bad!"

So brute force was an option, albeit a highly costly one. For one, it'd defeat the purpose of why they would bother in the first place. Renar mused about the situation as they marched through the forest, though not without rolling his eyes beneath his helm at Gertrude and Tyaethe's byplay. Or rather, Gertrude's ineffectual verbal flailing. Honestly, the girl was making the rest of them look like idiots for deigning to tolerate this nonsense. In front of a court representative, no less.

Renar took it upon himself to run damage control, of course. He sidled next to Lord Arken as they walked on, leaning forward to murmur quietly, out of Gertrude's earshot in particular.

"Our apologies for your having to endure Lady Gertrude's antics. Her entry into the ranks came at the recommendation of a trusted ally, and she's not quite adjusted to military discipline yet."

Moments later, his poleaxe was already raised as he felt the same presence as everyone else, falling back to defend the rear guard, considering he'd already been close to the position as it was.

"Already there, Fionn." Came the easy reply to the inquiry. "Sun and Moon willing, you or Fiadh recognize what we're facing. I don't much fancy dealing with even more unknown elements today."

Arken sighed heavily at Sir Renar's words.

"I can certainly tell," he commented, "I hope her capabilities are making up for her eccentricities."

Fanilly inhaled deeply. Their enemy had yet to make an appearance, but was almost certainly present. Would it attack? Would it simply continue to observe? Whatever it was was lurking out of sight, certainly. Did that mean it was stalking them? Or was it some form of scout, employed by the fae? They couldn't even be entirely certain that it was related to the Moonlight Queen. Or, for that matter, even the local fae at all.

Fae weren't the only creatures that dwelled in the deep of Brennan forest.

How did she respond? What tactic did she enforce? Their formation was already arranged to best defend those who were unable to engage at close range, so at the very least they were as reasonably prepared for an attack as they could be given the lack of knowledge that they possessed about their potential opponent.

That, combined with the stark atmosphere of this area of the forest---

She inhaled again and parted her lips.

"Iron Roses---"

There was a groan from the forest.

It wasn't the sound of a beast or man. No creature could pass such a noise from their lips.

It was the echoing creak of moving branches, of wood scraping against wood.

The trees---

The trees marked with faces were moving.

Immediately, Fanilly drew her sword, the flash of steel and the sound of sliding metal piercing the atmosphere. In a way, the revelation of their foe had relieved the tension.

"Prepare for batt-what?!"

Fanilly's eyes widen, her mouth falling open.

Certainly, the trees were moving.

But they were being dragged along. Pulled up from the earth, near-black roots winding together as the faces upon them melted away. They split and twisted, branches binding themselves like the individual fibers making up rope, forming a continuous shape of gnarled bark and intertwined limbs and roots.

Fanilly could hear something like a heartbeat echo through the forest as more and more trees were pulled free from the earth to join the forming shape.

A serpentine head formed, shards of razor-sharp splintered wood filling its maw as its jaws slowly opened, rising upwards and snapping the branches that formed the canopy.

The massive wooden serpent rose above them, jaws opening wide, an unearthly green glow serving as a simulacrum of eyes.

"Th-that's...---"

What in the blazes was this?! Fanilly had heard plenty of eerie stories of presences in Brennan, but she'd never heard of anything that sounded like this!

And it was poised to crash down upon them.

"Iron Roses, disper---"

Damn it, it was already bearing down, mouth open wide!

Did they even have time to---

"Threefold Barrier!"

A purple light erupted from mid-air, expanding into a set of three disc-shaped constructs of light. They resembled magic circles, angular patterns marking their formation and arranged as a stack.

The tree-serpent creature crashed against them. The first immediately shattered, fragmenting into pieces, and Fanilly could see cracks run through the second.

But it was sent reeling back, buying them even a little time.

Lord Arken's staff glowed brilliantly. He must have been the one who cast the defensive spell.

Fanilly took a deep breath. Her heart was nearly slamming against her breastplate, beating almost at the same time as the enormous heartbeat that filled the forest around them.

But she had to give her orders. They had to destroy this monster, whatever it might be!

"Break formation!" she called, "Spread out so it can't target us all at once!"

Despite having no idea what kind of creature this was, at the very least she knew that remaining clustered together was no use against such a huge creature.

Fanilly was already running.

"Lord Arken, Lady Fiadh, Sir Fionn, do you have any idea what this thing is?!"

---

The Gannek's maw seemed to gape wider and wider, more pitch black arms reaching from inside its body---

But Sir Rolan's bolt struck true, piercing one of its white eyes.

The sound that left the monster was unlike those made by living things. An unearthly, metallic screech that seemed to reach into the very bodies of those around it and shake their bones, reverberating through their ears. It sounded more like a blade being scraped along stone then anything a living creature should be able to produce.

Its lengthy body twisted as it attempted to look in the direction of the attack, the bolt already being pushed out of its body by its mending form. However, it was unable to locate Sir Rolan, due to Sir Gerard's efforts. The branch ramming deep into its mouth clearly took it by surprise, and it could do little to swiftly reach to its body being yanked along with it, its underside quickly exposed as it was pulled away from the slowly-dying tree.

Even though it had been taken by surprise, its shadowy arms were still crawling along the branch in an attempt to reach out towards the bold knight.

"I'll support you!" called Dame Yael, her slim-bladed sword leaving its sheath and skewering one of the monster's hands in a single motion, forcing it to retreat back into its maw at least temporarily.

Sir Caulder didn't need to be told what to do. His heavy axe raised up over his head, and was sent careening towards the monster's exposed belly to split it open and spill its insides---

Only for it to be caught by two of the creature's legs. Each of its feet were shaped similarly to human hands, and unfortunately despite its maw being preoccupied it still had awareness of other attacks.

Gritting his teeth. Sir Caulder slammed one foot forward, pouring his strength into his arms, but the Gannek's physical power was impossible to ignore despite its spindly frame.

And worse, one of its legs was reaching for the knight's head---

Meanwhile, the terrified aessyr had buried herself as deeply into the furs as she could possibly manage, trying to disappear entirely.

"Oh? This is interesting, that's not a common monster," Tyaethe mused, looking at the reeling snake's direction, then giving a shrug—and charging at it. So what if it was a giant wooden snake? From a certain point of view, dragons were just giant snakes that had limbs.

That didn't make sense but she was sticking with it. It existed, so it could be cut. Now, this didn't mean that it would be easy—sure enough, just swinging in passing didn't do more than cut divots into the bark, and maybe get its attention in her direction, as splitting up was easy. Hmm, the head? But that would be such an obvious weakness, and giant tree monsters weren't normally biological…? Ah, if it had anything more obvious, her eyesight would be such a liability. Or she could climb it…

Still, a huge monster. This was what she was good at fighting.

Fiadh, meanwhile, had dropped further down Fionn's back and was now looking wide-eyed at the enemy, swallowing before saying… "Umm… this one might be unique. The Moonlit Queen may be unhappy with intruders barging into her home. Now, that sounds very lonely to me, I'd never have met darling, but…

Rolan had to consider what he had gotten himself into as he worked to reload his crossbow, practiced movements and muscle memory carrying where the metallic screeching of a wounded...thing rattled through his very being. Like metal on stone, not the rhythmic sound of a whetstone on blade, but like a heavy hunk of metal dragged across cobblestone. The other knights, at least outwardly, showed no fear in their assault on the abomination, Dame Yael's slender blade driving hands back while Ser Gerard drove a large branch into its maw, forcing it upwards and exposing it to Ser Caulder's axe. Well, should have been exposed, but the clasping 'feet' of the Gannek, as the thing was so named, seemed intent on not making matters easy. More concerningly, another grasping 'foot' reaching down for Ser Caulder's head. No, that was not to be allowed, as Rolan shouldered his crossbow again, firing his shot at the leg going for the knight's head, aiming to pin it back against the tree or, at least, far away from anyone. Rather than immediately reload, he slung the crossbow in one smooth motion, hunting knife being drawn as he rushed forward, ignoring the senses telling him to keep as far from the thing as he could.

Rolan knew the rate of fire he could sustain would not be enough to drive back all the hands, and with the others committed as they were, Ser Caulder would be stuck simply trying to muscle past the Gannek's unnatural strength. Dashing forward low and fast, hunting knife in hand, he ducked forward in a lunge, aiming to cut deeply enough to cripple one of the legs keeping the heavy axe at bay. The sensation of hunger was, he was convinced, even worse this close to the thing, and rather than stay close and start putting his knife to work, he pushed off his leading leg after delivering a, hopefully, effective thrust to one of the legs of the Gannek, in an effort to create distance once more. Once gutted, and trapped Aessyr freed, they had to kill it. The thing didn't care much for his bolts, the shot to the eye that had caught if off guard proved that much, but plenty of stories talked about how fire and the like would melt such things away. He had plenty of fire, and even some more acidic compounds should fire itself not be enough.

Rolan didn't trust himself to speak or bark anything out, not that anything needed said, teeth grit tight as he began reloading anew, having put himself several paces behind the fellow knights once again. He worked from a kneeling position now, able to brace his crossbow better for a faster load. He would watch for opportunities, not willing to waste shots when one well placed one might keep his fellows from getting grabbed or worse.

@VitaVitaAR@HereComesTheSnow

---

Fionn stood in place, staring down the creature as the others sprinted to different parts of the now wide-open space. "When you say it like that, it makes it sound like I was the one that did the barging in," he grumbled, pulling out his sword. At least she'd answered the captain's question well enough for him—he was nearly guaranteed not to have any better idea than her in matters pertaining to other fae, something that still held true in this entire situation.

Without waiting for any information, Tyaethe charged the writhing tree-snake as it reeled back from Arken's barriers. "You may want to drop down and find a safer spot to hide, dear," he said over his shoulder. "I figure the fastest way to break whatever enchantment holds that thing together will be to stab it right through the heart, so I'm going to try and be quick like. Gniye bristim!"

Whether Fiadh decided it was worthwhile to hop off or if she thought that by staying attached she could do more good, he started to rush the snake from a different angle to Tyaethe; the momentary glow of released mana suffused his being as his spoken spell turned inwards, and he crossed the distance in the blink of an eye. Unlike Tyaethe, however, he didn't waste any thought deciding how he would tackle the woody beast.

He was already climbing it, ready to jam his sword in at any moment to keep himself from falling.

And hoping it wouldn't try to roll over on top of him.

Gerard Segremors

@Eisenhorn@VitaVitaAR

Hardly a breath after Dame Yael forced one of the Gannek's crawling, grasping arms back into its maw, a second line of edged steel blurred, as the longsword in the wolf-pelted knight's hand sent another home. He grunted, snarling as he drove all his power into the dried, dead ground beneath, keeping his impromptu boar spear wedged against their foe's most dangerous weapon, checking its advance, keeping that belly exposed. That was the key to all this. Everyone here knew that.

None moreso than the beast itself, as two legs snatched Sir Caulder's axe and stopped it cold, while a third reached for his helmet while he was still stuck in deadlock for generalship of the weapon, strength met with strength. Gerard had mere seconds to react, even as Rolan darted in and out of range behind the bite of his hunting knife to disable an arm—

"To Caulder! Go! We'll be alright!" he howled, the immediate echo in his helmet ringing down to the Aessyr's ears as much as Dame Yael's. As though to make good on his promise, lightning cracked behind his visor, and he pressed the advantage, forcing his arm, shoulder, and torso behind it forward, buying more distance... for now.

He could feel the strides of the crawling length of arms even as he bat them away with his sword. Between that and the titanic strain he was putting the wood under (even with the grain as opposed to against), he wouldn't be able to check it like this forever— at some point, he'd need a fallback. His passenger was buried really deep now, so he didn't believe he'd lose her if he needed to move quick...

"Be ready, but have faith. I've got you." he breathed.

If he felt the branch was about to go, he'd cast it off and use the second of obstruction it'd buy to get at the neck— take over as battering ram, find an angle where the monster couldn't get its mouth or arms around to reach.

Renar was already halfway towards scattering as Fanilly gave the order, his eyes tracking the gigantic wooden snake's movements, and his mind already racing with countermeasures. Unfortunate that the most straightforward solution would be the most counterproductive to their actual goal here. A shame, too. He would have liked to see how this creature burned.

Fortunate that he was at least better equipped in this situation than a swordsman would be. Certainly, the head of his poleaxe wouldn't be as effective as a real woodcutting axe would be, but enhanced with runes and dwarf-forged as it was, chances were very good that cutting into would repeatedly at least wouldn't damage the weapon. Failing that, there was still the hammer head.

As Fionn started clambering up snake, much like Renar had done with Thrinax, the latter knight took an alternate approach. While the foe would be distracted by that and Tyaethe's charge, Renar half-climbed, half-leapt up a tree close to where the snake was, his training having paid dividends in regards to his swiftness. Upon scaling to a decent enough height, he clutched his poleaxe in his right, hung off the tree with his left, and braced both of his knees in a crouch before leaping off the tree as a springboard, aiming to circumvent climbing the snake altogether and plunge onto it, his weapon in both hands and crashing down towards its body.

Fleuri Jodeau

Fleuri had never seen a creature like this before. A giant serpent, formed from the very trees, bearing down upon them. Fleuri weaved to the side as it crashed towards them, only for the beast to strike a magical barrier.

He wasn't a mage, but from how the snake knocked through the first of the barriers, the magical bulwark would only likely be able to hold back one more strike. However, with the knights scattering around it, the arboreal beast no longer had reason to put all of its might behind getting past the shield. It now had targets all around.

That's how he figured it, at least. Knowing this thing's likely connection to the fae, its behavior could be utterly unlike that of a
territorial predator.

A couple of weeks ago, Fleuri would not have considered his greatsword to be an ideal weapon for taking on a beast made of wood. That was before he witnessed a tree felled by a single blow from Jeremiah, before he saw Rui generate shockwaves from the swings of her blade, before he spent time in Merilia's world training with the original Roses.

He wasn't nearly at the level of Rui or Jeremiah, of course, but he was much further along than he was back when they first set out to deal with the bandit problem. Now was the time to assess just how far.

Fleuri bolted past the neck towards where the serpent's body rested on the ground, raising his sword and bringing it down with all of his might upon the woooden abomination.

"I---Very well, Sir Gerard!"

Dame Yael nodded, swiftly disengaging from the creature a swiftly as she could manage and darting to the side.

The Gannek's unnatural voice came again, shorter this time, when it's limb was pierced by Sir Rolan's strike, twisting its body to attempt to reach with one of its many limbs but falling short of the other knight.

"Thanks!" grunted Sir Caulder, who had been moments away from the monster attempting reaching his head. But his axe was still tied up, those grasping limbs forcing him to remain in place despite the strength he poured into his arms. He could neither wrench it free, nor push through the Gannek's strength in order to make a disemboweling blow. If he released his axe, he could switch to his sidewarm, but the sword simply wasn't made to inflict the deep cuts required as swiftly as he needed to.

But if he didn't do something soon, the situation had every chance of worsening.

As it turned out, it was a decision he wouldn't have to make.

Dame Yael's sword flashed, skewering one of the limbs gripping Sir Caulder's axe through its joint. The monstrous creature shrieked again, its awful, unnatural voice ripping through the forest as its grip slackened.

This was all that Sir Caulder needed.

With a roar, he yanked the axe free from the Gannek's grasp, and sent it slamming down----!

It cleaved through dark flesh, black ichor and an unspeakably foul, decaying scent filling the air. He'd hit his mark and cut clean into the Gannek's side!

Only to be met with a powerful slap, striking him and lifting him off the ground entirely, sending the knight hurtling back. While his army would likely protect him from serious harm, the wind had been knocked out of him.

The Gannek's belly had been cut, deep enough to send black bile and other unsavory fluids spilling from within. But it's sinous, serpentine body had twisted, avoiding being entirely split.

Still, the damage had been done. Unlike its wounded eye or limbs, the injury to its belly was not healing anywhere near as swiftly, oozing foul-scented darkness.

With one of its limbs grasping over the wound, the Gannek attempted to pull back and wrench itself free from the branch jammed deep into is gaping maw.

It was impossible to miss the fact that the area seemed to be growing darker, and the gnawing, hungry sensation deeper in the stomachs of the assembled knights. While no physical symptoms would arise, the sensation of aching hunger was growing stronger.

It was said that the presence of a Gannek could make one feel as if they hadn't eaten in days, some measure of the endless gluttony of the monster being conferred to those around it.

Slits opened along the creature's back, looking like dozens of little mouths flanking the bones of its spine and belching forth black mist. The darkness said to accompany such a monster was said to come swiftly, after all.

It was likely attempting to blind its opponents.

@HereComesTheSnow@Eisenhorn